


To Warm in the Sun

by Thebonemoose



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, F/M, First Kiss, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonemoose/pseuds/Thebonemoose
Summary: A series of Gilbert’s thoughts regarding Anne.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 159





	To Warm in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> So I am very tired and then I was like “hey why don’t I write a fic” and now here is this thing which I have no idea if it is any good or if it even makes sense. Hopefully it does, and hopefully you like it.
> 
> The title is from Shameful Company by Rainbow Kitten Surprise, which is a good and romantic ass song, and very much inspired this fic. Shoutout to Polite Company (also by Rainbow Kitten Surprise) for motivating me to finish this instead of sleeping.

There were times when Gilbert felt less like a person and more like a stone.

Like he was heavy with the weight of loss and the pressure of his future, however excited for it he may be. 

Bash helped, of course. Bash was his family now, and Mary. And the baby they would soon have. 

Miss Stacy and his classmates helped, as well. It was nice to focus on the learning for a few hours, instead of all of the sadness that threatened to drag him down at any moment. 

He was handling it well, he thought. He was pretty young to have lost his whole family. But he was handling it well.

But then again, Anne was young, too. Younger than him. As young for her tragedies as he was for his. An argument could be made that she lost more than he ever did, even though she never knew her parents. 

But Anne… Anne was bright. She was warm. She was the kind of person that you wanted to be near to, like maybe some of her light would come and fill you up, too. 

She was the Sun. 

But she also...snuck up on you. You wouldn’t realize how deep you were until she’d already drawn you in with her passion, her excitement. And by the time you finally saw, it was too late. You already loved her.

At least, Gilbert did.

He could admit it to himself, now. He loved her. She and the Cuthbert were close friends of his. He cared about all of them.

He ignored the insistent voice in his head that said “yes, you care about all of them. But Anne is different. Anne will always be different.”

He couldn’t deal with that. It was too big, too nebulous. Too heavy. 

Gilbert was already carrying so much. 

Acknowledging this— this thing, that was between them— it was more than he could carry.

Nevermind that Anne made him feel light, and unburdened. Nevermind that she never asked him to be something he wasn’t. Nevermind that he didn’t have to pretend around her. 

Gilbert drifted back to himself. Miss Stacy was still teaching about something or other, but Gilbert recognized the lesson on the board. He’d read ahead, he knew all the answers. 

Only one other student looked as unoccupied as he did.

She looked out the window and fiddled with her fiery braid. 

He felt a swooping in his chest, and tried to quell the betrayal of his own internal organs. Now was not the time. Not here, not like this.

Anne smiled to herself, undoubtedly imagining something delightful. He envied her. There were times he could have really used a fantastical escape, even if it was only in his head. 

He took advantage of her averted gaze and just watched her for a little while. She kept toying with the end of her braid, and it was slowly making the ribbon come loose. She absentmindedly re-tied it, her attention still on the world outside of the schoolhouse. His eyes drifted to her freckles. Anne hated them, he knew. Well, everybody knew. She was quite vocal about it. 

But Gilbert liked them. They were unique. If he were as good of a wordsmith as Anne, he might compare them to constellations and celestial bodies. She would like that, he was sure.

Miss Stacy finished up her lesson and moved onto a subject Gilbert needed to pay attention to. He looked away from Anne.

Mary was dead. Mary was dead, and Bash was a mess, and Delly needed her mother. As kind as everyone had been, they were a poor substitute.

He hung his head, scrubbed his face. He’d ran out to the orchard to clear his head, but his mind only felt cloudier. His head tilted backwards and connected with the tree at his back with a dull thunk. 

A figure appeared in the distance, and Gilbert knew immediately it was Anne. It was likely she was there to deliver something to Miss Cuthbert, who was looking after Delly. He wanted to feel bolstered by her presence, but his fatigued heart couldn’t seem to muster up the energy.

He sighed and turned his head away. He heard the door to his house open, and close. Then, several moments later, it opened again, and he heard light footsteps approaching. He looked up.

“Hi, Gilbert,” Anne said. “How are you?” She crossed her legs and sat down beside him. 

“I’m… I don’t know,” he settled on. 

She nodded, and he got the impression she truly did understand. Anne didn’t say anything after that, a rarity for her. She just sat with them, and a breeze blew across their faces while birds sang.

And all Gilbert could think was how unfair it was that Mary was gone, and she could never feel the breeze on her face, or hear birds sing ever again. 

“Anne?” Gilbert said, his voice slightly rough. 

Anne looked at him with an open expression. 

“I’m so tired of losing people,” he told her, and didn’t try to hide the way his whole self crumbled after that. Anne didn’t respond, but she did take his hand in hers, and Gilbert thought maybe that was enough. 

This, Gilbert thought, was a bad idea. 

It began when Anne decided that the class should get together for a game of hide and seek before they all left for Queen’s. 

Well, before most of them left. 

And, while there was still over two months of school left, the class agreed. All except for Charlie Sloan, who insisted it be referred to as “manhunt” because it was more mature.

Anne consented, and the planning for the school-wide manhunt commenced.

Anne was in charge, naturally, with Diana and Moody acting as her seconds. Eventually, a plan was hatched. They would begin at the schoolhouse, and have a few designated seekers, and everyone else would hide. Every man for himself; alliances were void, Anne had told them smugly.

Anne never did look as self-satisfied as when she was crafting a scheme. 

Which brought them to their current situation, with Anne, Tillie, and Gilbert pressed shoulder-to-shoulder on their stomachs underneath a thick blanket of leaves.

Anne seemed to be faring well; she was unfazed by the proximity and the insects which crawled around them. Even Josie and Moody’s shouts didn’t disturb her. 

Tillie, however, was considerably more unhappy with their current predicament. 

“Mm-mm, I can’t do this. Sorry, Anne. I’ll just risk getting caught. I’m not getting bugs in my hair over this, it’s not worth it.” Tillie pushed herself up and began exiting their den of deceit.

“Tillie, wait! You’ll blow our cover!” Anne protested in a loud whisper, but Tillie wasn’t deterred. 

“They moved on already, and I’ll put the leaves back so they don’t see you,” Tillie said, and quietly extricated herself from the two of them. She rearranged the leaves and bushes on top of them afterwards, and crept away.

“And then there were two,” Anne said dejectedly. 

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “I’d suggest an alliance, but I know how you feel about those,” he remarked sarcastically.

“They’re for the weak, Gilbert. What would you have me do, allow the worst hiders to band together until they overwhelm the seekers? That’s just not fair.”

Gilbert snorted. 

“Soooo… how’s the doctorate going?” Anne asked nonchalantly.

“Anne, you know as well as I do that I am not currently working towards a doctorate.”

“Do I? Do I know that?” 

“You should, you disturb me when I’m studying often enough,” he snarked, and she nudged him with her elbow. He laughed.

“And… how’s Miss Rose?” Anne seemed reluctant to ask.

Gilbert furrowed his brow. “She’s… fine.”

“She’s a very beautiful girl. Woman, I guess.” Anne looked down.

“Sure…” Gilbert replied. Anne had the same expression that she would get sometimes, the one that meant she was thinking about her looks and feeling inadequate.

It always made something nasty and unpleasant swirl in Gilbert’s gut, knowing Anne thought of herself that way. As if she was anything less than the most compelling person God ever made. 

As if she wasn’t stunning, but more than that, as if she wasn’t so hugely magnetic anyways, appearance aside. Gilbert knew of a fair few people who’d been drawn in by that magnet, himself included. 

He glanced over at her. She hadn’t tried to talk again, just lay with her head in her hands, propped up by her elbows. She was imagining something, he knew. He could always tell. 

It made him smile, thinking about it. He’d gotten to know her well, over the years. Ever since that day she smashed him with her slate, and he became utterly fascinated and intrigued by her. She was capable of such contradictions, to be insecure and so bold and brave at the same time. To be gentle, and tender, but also furious and fearsome. 

He could puzzle her out for a lifetime, if she let him.

And oh, there was that thing. That great big thing between them that he had hidden away in his mind; thrown a cloth over and tucked away into some dark corner. Hoping it would leave him alone, knowing it wouldn’t. 

Now his fool self had gone and uncovered it, had pried it open. 

That truth he’d been avoiding, that single question? It was out, free, in his mind, and he closed his eyes as it asked itself, over and over and over, meanwhile the answer was laying right beside him, smiling softly to herself.

Yes, he thought. Yes, I am. Unequivocally. 

Anne was laughing and twirling in the sunlight, and Gilbert could not look away. 

The Saturday was clear and beautiful, and Anne had marched up to his front door and asked if he wanted to go on a walk. And, because it was Anne, he said yes.

She had talked about how stupendously blue the sky was, and how delightful the ocean would be on such a warm Summer day as this. And now, she was spinning and looking up through the canopy of trees, their shadows speckled on her face. 

Her foot caught on a root, and she stumbled, but Gilbert caught her, pulling her close to him so she wouldn’t fall. 

Her eyes were wide and blue, and Gilbert distantly thought he could fall into them if he just leaned forward a little bit. But he didn’t.

What he did do was open his mouth. 

“Anne, I have to tell you something.”

It came out more urgent than he had intended— soft and low, but desperate. 

Anne nodded slightly, and stepped away from him, her expression tinged with concern. 

Gilbert knew the distance was probably good, but his body nearly ached with the loss of hers.

“I—“ he started, and choked. He closed his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. He sat down on a stump nearby, just to buy himself some time, but then Anne followed suit, and sat on a log in front of him. She leaned forward slightly, eager, but trying not to show it. 

Gilbert was overcome with such a fondness it strangled him. A hopeless sort of laugh bubbled up in his throat. “Anne, sometimes it feels like you’re the moon,” he said.

She sat back slightly, and he could see she had not been expecting that, her brows furrowed. 

“It feels like you’re the moon, and I’m a moth.”

Her eyes snapped up to his. 

“I’m just— I’m always looking for you, you know that? Even when you’re right in front of me, I’m still searching. You’re higher than the rest of us, Anne. Different, somehow. I think most people will be forgotten, but not you, Anne. It’s impossible to forget you.” 

Her mouth was open slightly, and she wanted to talk. He could tell by the way she kept inhaling like she had something to say, then letting out the air in a whoosh when she came up empty.

“And you’re just… you’re so warm. And bright. Even when the world is cold and snowy, it feels like all I need to do is look at you and I’ll be warm again. God, Anne, you make me feel at home and you don’t even try.” He wasn’t even trying to disguise the love in his voice, the affection in his gaze. There was no point, anymore.

“For a long time, I tried to ignore it. But it’s impossible, it always comes back. You’re too electric to be banished. I love you, Anne-girl. You’re so easy to care for. 

“And I don’t expect anything, I want you to know. Just— please, please don’t stop being my friend. I’ll take anything you give me, so long as you’re my friend. I couldn’t bear the thought of me driving us apart, but I also couldn’t hold this in any longer. It wouldn’t fit, Anne. It’s too big.” 

Anne hadn’t said a word, she was just looking at him. His cheeks were red, and his heart thundered in his chest, but he met her gaze. 

“Do you mean that?” She asked quietly, and there was some wildness in her eyes, something desperate and uncontainable. 

He swallowed, and nodded. “I meant every word.”

“And… you’re truly in love with me? You, Gilbert Blythe, in love with freckled, red-haired orphan Anne?” His heart broke at her tone, somehow both hopeful and unbearably sad all at once.

“I’m so in love I don’t know what to do with myself, Anne. This has been building for three years.”

“Three whole years?” Her voice was tinged with disbelief.

“Since you smacked me with your slate, and I couldn’t look away from you as you bolted out of the schoolhouse.”

She chuckled breathlessly. “Gilbert, I—“

He stopped her. “It’s okay, Anne. You don’t need to let me down easy. I know you don’t feel the way I do. I’ve made my piece with that. Just please, swear we’ll still be friends?” 

Her jaw dropped. “Wha- no!”

Gilbert’s heart sank down to the floor. “No?” He echoed weakly, and Anne seemed angry at herself.

“I meant- I mean that I’m not letting you down easy, Gilbert. We’ll always be friends, of course, but I— that is, what I want…” Anne hesitated. 

Gilbert’s feeble little heart was now beating twice as fast as earlier, having been revived by Anne. “Yes?” 

Anne groaned. “Why is this so difficult! Romantic confessions are never this complicated in books!”

Gilbert stared at her. “Anne, are you telling me you have feelings for me?” 

She nodded. “Yes. Yes. I- I love you, Gilbert. I want— well, I want us to be like we’ve always been, just… a bit more romantic, maybe.” 

Gilbert could hardly breathe. His mouth widened into a grin, and he grabbed Anne’s hand and squeezed it. She looked down at their clasped hands and smiled, and Gilbert could have gone to heaven just then, knowing that he was the reason for the smile on Anne Shirley-Cuthbert’s beautiful face.

“May I try something, Gilbert?” Anne asked suddenly, looking nervous and excited at the same time.

Gilbert could only nod. She leaned forward until they were no more than two inches apart. She looked at him, searching, and his head stuttered, a jerky, awkward nod. She bridged the gap between them, and her lips were on his, and Gilbert felt like his entire body was being engulfed in warm, pleasant flames.

She pulled away with an elated grin, and Gilbert knew his expression matched hers. She stood and pulled him up by their clasped hands. 

“While you dance with me, Gilbert?” She asked walking backwards, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. 

“Anything you want, Anne-girl,” he replied, soft. 

She pulled him close, and then they were both twirling under the foliage, and she was laughing like joy was the house she lived in, and overhead the sun shone down from amidst the deep blue sky, but to Gilbert, the sun was the girl in his arms, spinning and stumbling and giggling, and Gilbert thought he could live a lifetime, just like this.


End file.
